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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25273210">Monster (that will swallow this light)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unassuming/pseuds/unassuming'>unassuming</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mamamoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/F, Fantasy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:20:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25273210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unassuming/pseuds/unassuming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When the moon covers the sun<br/>When that light is lost and darkness falls</p><p> </p><p>or Byulyi is a monster and Hyejin just wants to be something</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ahn Hyejin | Hwasa/Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Monster (that will swallow this light)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You don’t look like a monster.”</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin stares at the girl behind the bars. Pale skin, dark circles around her eyes. She lounges on the cot, legs spread and an arm resting on her bent knee. A slim hand is splayed across her mouth and her eyes are hooded, whether it be with exhaustion or something more... Hyejin cannot say.</p><p> </p><p>She glances up, eyes opening further to take in the newcomer. It’s only been a few short hours, at least Byulyi thinks. Time feels slower to her, as though its passing is inconsequential. In a way, she supposes it is. When there’s nothing left to live for, days and nights blend together. Inevitably it is all the same, meaningless chatter until the end arrives.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Byulyi spits out. Her voice sharp and rusty. Hyejin tilts her head, absorbing the words with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Most people don’t.” Is all she offers in return.</p><p> </p><p>The kingdom of the east, the Red Moon, remained notoriously aloof for centuries. No one had seen or heard anything beyond the trees surrounding the kingdom since a new generation of rulers came to power. Hyejin heard the stories, of a Red Moon eons ago. Where the girls dressed in suits and the boys knew how to bake. The people could be seen dancing at the edge of their borders, careless and free. History textbooks depicted the kingdom as an outsider, traditions were few and far between. Instead, the common folk spent their time developing useful skills, traveling to the neighboring kingdoms to aid anyone who may hire them. The people’s focus was on their own families, not the kingdom as a whole.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin thought it sounded lovely. Thought that there were fewer expectations when you were free to fend for yourself.</p><p> </p><p>In the distance, a bell began to chime, marking supper time. Though this kingdom was less strict about where your time was spent, meals were of the utmost importance. Missing one would mean starving until the next.</p><p> </p><p>“Better hurry, pretty girl.” The woman behind bars tsked. “You don’t want to be late.”</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin startled, forgetting for a moment there was someone else there. It was cute, Byulyi thought. That this girl had climbed the tallest tower to see her, and yet could completely forget her presence.</p><p> </p><p>It’s foolish.</p><p> </p><p>“I will come back tomorrow,” Hyejin promised. Bowing slightly, more out of habit than respect, and took a step away. Pausing before- “What do they call you?”</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi shrugged. “Monster is the most appropriate.”</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin’s eyes rolled. “You must have a real name.”</p><p> </p><p>“And what’s yours, pretty girl?” White teeth bit back into a vicious smile.</p><p> </p><p>Hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>The prisoner chuckled, the notes of it broken as though she couldn’t quite remember how laughter was supposed to sound. “So you aren’t completely stupid,” Byulyi remarked, settling further down the wall in her slumped position. “You understand that names have power.”</p><p> </p><p>Of course, the Yellow Flower’s kingdom spent significantly less time worrying about names. Appearances had to be kept in the kingdom, known for girls with full bodies and boys with strong arms. People rarely addressed each other by names, if they talked to anyone at all. More often than not, neighbors ignored each other and could do so for most of their life. Hyejin’s parents had never known the names of their neighbors. Instead, they raved about the beautiful twin boys next door (her mama) or the light skin of the middle daughter (her father).</p><p> </p><p>Rarely did anyone care about anything as personal as a name.</p><p> </p><p>“Hwasa.” Hyejin snapped if only to prove she wasn’t scared of the monster under the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi blinked. Hwasa. She curled the letters around her tongue and grinned. More genuine. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”</p><p> </p><p>A compliment that fell on deaf ears. Hyejin knew she didn’t meet her kingdom’s standard of beauty. Knew she would almost certainly never earn her keep. Other kingdoms paid generously for the beauty of the Yellow Flower. As escorts, bribes, and grooms, models, muses. Day in and day out, Hyejin wished she could do right by her parents. Get a job, any really, that would add to the income. Her elder sisters both had infrequent listing but Hyejin herself was turned away at every doorstep, every assignment. Her parents, too old for their beauty to be worth much, relied on the girls.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi took note of the squared shoulders, the way Hwasa lifted her chin slightly and turned her body away as if giving Byulyi the best view. She frowned, watching the girl’s eyes glaze over with too many emotions for Byulyi to discern. Hwasa caught her eye again, gave a smile, false but beautiful as expected from anyone in the Yellow Flower, and left.</p><p> </p><p>The monster knew the 4 Seasons reasons for locking her in the Yellow Flower Kingdom. The inhabitants cared little about each other. Appearances were everything. And everyone knew that Byulyi would not be sought after in this kingdom. No playful kids, buzzing into places they shouldn’t be. No sounds of music, soothing Byulyi to sleep. The Yellow Flower was quiet, calm. People going about their days earning a living, contributing to the kingdom’s image. Always smiling for appeal, not for happiness. Children here were taught how to move to show off their bodies, to speak calmly, to fade into the background.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi ran her hands along the rough edges of her prison. The silence wasn’t calming to her. She came from a land where people danced until their feet were sore, laughed until the sound was more air than joy. It was rowdy and unkempt But it was home. It sounded like home.</p><p> </p><p>The White Wind, the northern kingdom, would’ve been ideal. Probably the most peaceful kingdom, known for their friendliness and generosity. A place thriving on the goodwill and good deeds. Byulyi despised it.</p><p> </p><p>But yet they were loud, like her own hometown. They weren’t stiff with the politeness of the Blue Sun Kingdom. The White Wind was free and quaint and full of sound. Byulyi yearned for it. Yearned to hear someone scream, in laughter or in pain, she wasn’t picky.</p><p> </p><p>She figured she must be placed deep in the heart of the kingdom. Night fell and the music that came with the stars was absent. The Blue Sun, the southernmost kingdom, would sing into the night. Byulyi remembered the gatherings at the border, waiting for the music that would fill up the sky. Not from records or pipes, but from the clear loud voices of their neighbors. The Blue Sun was the strongest kingdom, taking the head place at the 4 Seasons alliance. Their kingdom supplied powerful leaders, people whose voices overpowered everyone else's. They supplied the music, understanding the balance between work and play. Always looking to have fun if the schedule allowed it.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi envied that. Envied having a voice. The ability to sing was something that alluded all of her kingdom, no matter how many skills they possessed. Byulyi herself could write very well, had a keen ear for music, could dance just as well as her people. Acting had been a talent she discovered on a visit to the White Wind. Arguably her most important skill valued high in the market. Not that it mattered much anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Not yet.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>“Back again, pretty girl?” The monster’s voice rang out, low but firm. Hyejin sat across from the prison, not interested in moving anytime soon.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed your eyes,” Hyejin remarked, raspy and suggestive as her sister taught her.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi’s eyes dropped to her mouth unbidden, watching the way her red lips formed the words. Next to her throat, and the way it moved when she spoke. Byulyi itched to sink her teeth into the unblemished skin. “Charming.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence stretched between them and Byulyi had to refrain from squirming. There as a reason her travels never took her to the Yellow Flower. People here rarely knew how to make good conversation, content with letting overs do the talking. Hwasa was no different, understanding that her opinions were not wanted, just her body.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you think I’m pretty?” Byulyi blurts into the silence, cursing herself. She’s desperate for a real conversation (<em>not</em> to hear the other woman’s voice).</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa smiles, disarmingly charming. “I think you’d look prettier without your extensions.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a barb and Byulyi frowns. The bite to her words is challenging if a little mocking. She reaches up to her hair self consciously before dropping it just as quickly. Her jet black hair is tangled and messy, the extensions were probably making it worse. “Not everyone can be blessed with round cheeks, princess.” Byulyi snaps. “Isn’t that how it works? Short hair and chubby cheeks? A pretty appearance for a man looking to-“</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Hwasa shouts, furious and loud and echoing. She’s standing again fists curled at her side and yes. Byulyi thinks this is what she wanted. Hwasa’s eyes are lit with fire and her posture hunched forward slightly, the angle of her shoulders without the seductive appeal.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi waves a mocking hand. “Sorry, I forgot. Men wouldn’t want someone so lippy.”</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa grinds her teeth (Byulyi can hear it) and opens her mouth, ready to shout and then-</p><p> </p><p>She’s gone. Her footsteps are light again the stone, heels clicking as the other woman makes a retreat. Byulyi blinks at the abrupt change. Furrowing her brow and swearing beneath her breath.</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t stay and play with me?” She laughs into the darkness, knowing her voice will carry.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>“Play with me Byulyi. Play with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Wheein’s voice is unnaturally high, a pout forming on her pretty lips. Byulyi wants to kiss it off. She has work to do.</p><p> </p><p>“Byulyi.” Wheein draws out the syllables of her name, tugging on her arm insistently.</p><p> </p><p>Papers are strewn across the room. Byulyi has been working on this song for months. Yongsun will be here any minute and “No Wheein I don’t have time.”</p><p> </p><p>It comes out more tired that cruel and Wheein huffs. Looking through the sheets of music.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello?” Yongsun steps into the room, Byulyi’s parents had let her in. “Is it finished?”</p><p> </p><p>Groaning, Byulyi flops across the bed. “No unnie. I have to figure out the chorus and the ending.”</p><p> </p><p>Yongsun frowns, looking at some of the papers. The music is sad, almost harsh. Abrupt beats and high notes. She tosses the papers aside and grabs Byulyi’s hands, yanking her to a stand. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi topples over from the unexpected force. Head hitting Yongsun’s middle and stumbling into her leg. Wheein laughs, high and delighted from Byulyi’s embarrassment. It’s almost loud enough to drown out the noise. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>The beat of the soldiers’ footsteps sounds like a death omen and Byulyi holds her breath. Praying that they won’t stop outside her door. She’s only fifteen. She’s not ready to go to war.</p><p> </p><p>Footsteps retreat and Byulyi can breathe again. Wheein wraps her arms around Byulyi’s middle and whispers in her ear, “Last one to the kitchen has to run naked through the forest.”</p><p> </p><p>Yongsun takes off, Wheein close behind her, and Byulyi trips over her own two feet. The house is loud with her friends’ giggles, her parent’s woodworking, her sisters playing a game.</p><p> </p><p>She is fifteen, young and free, and she thinks it’s going to be like this forever.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin is six and moving houses. Hyejin is eight and still showing too many signs of rebellion. Hyejin is twelve and still not losing her baby fat.</p><p> </p><p>Her parents whisper behind closed doors but Hyejin can still hear them. They’re not disappointed, they’re <em>worried</em> and that’s almost worse. Her oldest sister just had her first job as an escort and the other just came back with another job as a muse. Another painter taken by her beauty, even though she’s only fifteen. It’s her seventh job.</p><p> </p><p>The bathroom mirror taunts her. Hyejin’s full cheeks are streaked with tears and she wipes at them furiously. The skin reddens but it doesn’t stand out, her skin is too dark for that. Nothing like the lighter complexion of her sisters, despite all three of them rarely leaving the house.</p><p> </p><p>She stands straighter, watches her shoulders as they drop to a more appealing level, accenting her collarbones. She turns her head slightly, the skin of her neck thinning and sucks in her cheeks. Her chest is already developing, one point for her that her sisters don’t have. She bends at the waist, bracing her core and opens her chest.</p><p> </p><p>If only she could look this pretty without all the effort. Without this weight on her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi loses count of the days but when Hwasa makes her next appearance, she’s thinner. The prisoner startles in the face of sharper cheekbones and fuller hips but a smaller stomach and tight-fitting clothes. Hwasa doesn’t look angry, she doesn’t have an expression at all. Byulyi irritably notes the short black hair, falling to her chin and damp with the rain she can hear pounding outside.</p><p> </p><p>“How many moons has it been?” Byulyi asks, sharp and tired. “Didn’t know you were so sensitive.”</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa shrugs, careless. Her dress is a light purple and when she turns to brush something away on the floor Byulyi can see its open back. Suddenly there’s too much skin and Byulyi thinks helplessly about the last time she had contact with anyone. Too long, she knows. Too long since she felt anything really.</p><p> </p><p>“You never gave me your name,” Hwasa says in lieu of an answer.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi barks out a laugh. Insincere and disbelieving. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me? Tell me what day it is.” She’s on her feet, pacing the cell floor and balling her hands in fists. Thunder crackles outside.</p><p> </p><p>The other woman doesn’t look moved.</p><p> </p><p>“Why? Where’re your manners? Or has being locked up so long taken the last of your humanity away.”</p><p> </p><p>She stops pacing, looking at the other woman in surprise. Her voice remained the same with the passing of time, raspy and low but there’s something else now. A carelessness that speaks of someone who has no desire for a true answer. Byulyi doesn’t like it.</p><p> </p><p>“Still so pretty after all this time.” Byulyi coos. Her eyes roam the girl’s figure. “A shame such beauty was wasted on such a sharp tongue.”</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi waits for the fight, bounces on her toes of the thrill of it. But Hwasa doesn’t look angry. Her eyes are cold, detached, but the smile that slides onto her face is all pretense. She stretches, arching her back and exposing a slit in the side of her dress. Byulyi’s mouth waters when a generous tan thigh comes into view and Hwasa’s delicate fingers come to rest on the newly exposed skin.</p><p> </p><p>“You think I’m pretty?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s dripping in faux innocence and wonder, as if the compliment was unexpected and hard to believe. Byulyi would almost believe she was vulnerable if not for the tightness of her closed smile. The way she shifts a little, letting the dress expose even more skin.</p><p> </p><p>“How long,” Byulyi demands. Her voice cracks and she turns her back on the temptress waiting just beyond the bars.</p><p> </p><p>When no answer is forthcoming Byulyi turns around. Hwasa is standing, leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around her. The action causes her cleavage to be more pronounced and Byulyi’s mouth waters.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing that she has her attention again, Hwasa grins, a glimmer of teeth. “It’s been five months since I last saw you.”</p><p> </p><p>Something inside her rears its ugly head and- “You lost that much weight in five months?”</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi knew she should’ve taken down the Yellow Flower kingdom first. Knew that the orders against the White Wind were foolish. The Yellow Flower had no army, relied on the 4 Seasons alliance to keep them protected. Hated the thought of the beauty standards the Yellow Flower had. Hated that other people enjoyed it. For why would they have changed their ways when beauty pays so well?</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa smiles, a full smile this time and Byulyi thinks it really is genuine, to her horror. She arches her back, presenting a delicious curve to her line and tucks half her face behind a smooth shoulder. “You noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>And oh it’s a dangerous game Byulyi plays but she thinks of the girls and boys, flirting with the soldiers in her kingdom. Thinks of the way the soldiers melted at the attention of such pretty words and pretty eyes. Promised herself that she would be a better soldier.</p><p> </p><p>“I noticed,” she replies thickly, “that there’s less of you to enjoy.” Byulyi takes five quick steps forward, closes her hands around the bars. “I noticed that your throat is slimmer, easier to grip.” She continues, tightening her knuckles on the bars and pressing a cheek to the cold metal. “I was merely hoping you’d give me a better view to appreciate it, kitten.”</p><p> </p><p>In the past, Byulyi thinks, this woman would spitfire. Wouldn’t let a prisoner leer at her because she holds her head like royalty and demands the attention like she’s worth twice the amount of everyone in the room. Byulyi thinks that’s a fair transaction.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, she slinks forward, so close that Byulyi can smell her vanilla shampoo. Shes bending into the bars, which puts her more level with Hwasa’s collarbone than it does her face, not that Byulyi is complaining.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe next time,” Hwasa whispers, running a finger over Byulyi’s knuckles. She bends, giving Byulyi an eyeful of the skin beneath her dress and-</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa’s eyes are dark but calm. Tempered by something Byulyi can’t reach. Her gaze flickers to Byulyi’s lips, wets her own, before straightening and heading out.</p><p> </p><p>The prisoner gasps for breath, hadn’t realized she’d been holding it and before she can stop herself she shouts, “Why are you doing this? Visiting me?”</p><p> </p><p>Her back to Byulyi, framed by the light of the staircase and the lightning flashing in the distance, Hwasa looks heavenly. Byulyi had read about the legendary rulers of the Yellow Flower. Always one king or queen. Being alone made them seem vulnerable. People would go to war for their affections, their attention. Byulyi can see the appeal.</p><p> </p><p>Without turning, Hwasa says softly, “You seem lonely.”</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi is sixteen when she kisses her first boy. He’s taller than her and she has to lean up to reach his lips. She had applied chapstick while her sisters giggled behind her in the mirror, going on and on about Byulyi’s date.</p><p> </p><p>When they get to the edge of the forest, listening to the Blue Sun’s music as the sun sets, he takes her hand in his. Distantly she thinks its a size too big and he smells too strongly of cologne and the line of his jaw is harder than Wheeins-</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t kiss any more boys after that.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>At seventeen everything clicks into place. The other kingdoms care more about gender. The White Wind, while playful and free, sees boys and girls as inevitable. The Blue Sun thinks that producing more generations is the key to their kingdom thriving.</p><p> </p><p>In the deep forests of the Red Moon, people dress differently. Their dancing doesn’t reflect the seductive nature of the Yellow Flower or the performance of the Blue Sun. They care little about the standards the other kingdoms have set.</p><p> </p><p>But when Byulyi sees two girls kissing, her stomach turns and she wonders if she is going to hurl. Wheein is calling to her in the distant but the game of hide and seek is long forgotten. Byulyi rarely set foot in the Yellow Flower. So tame in comparison to the rest of the kingdoms she enjoys. But at the edge of the cobblestone roads, in a field of low lying grass, two girls are tangled in each other. Kissing slowly, softly, and from the looks of it, quite thoroughly.</p><p> </p><p>They wear dresses as girls should and Byulyi’s trousers suddenly feel too warm. Though the inhabitants of the Red Moon have been defying gender stereotypes since the beginning, odd and judgmental looks are always thrown her way. It makes her feel smaller, restricted. Desperate to conform, to appeal to the other kingdoms.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone knows that the Yellow Flower doesn’t care for gender. They’re brought up to wear what’s flattering. To seduce those of any gender. The girls wear dresses that show too much skin and the boys’ shirts are open more than the Blue Sun would deem appropriate.</p><p> </p><p>Yet something feels so right, seeing the material of the dressing sliding against each other. Soft skin and long hair and delicate features.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi thinks <em>this. this is what I’ve been missing</em>.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>At eighteen Byulyi falls in love. Seulgi has pretty brown hair and pretty brown eyes and gods Byulyi is overcome with affection when she sings just so. Byulyi writes lyrics after lyrics after lyrics, poems of words flow from her pen and she spends countless nights sleepless, desperate to capture her beauty.</p><p> </p><p>Her laugh is sweet and high and she sings Byulyi to sleep when she stays over. Her mother and father tuck blankets over the girls when they crash on the couch and wake them up with breakfast at sunrise.</p><p> </p><p>She gets lost, tracing the contours of her face, fingers brushing the soft skin of her thighs. Seulgi murmurs quiet laughter, insisting it tickles. Byulyi kisses her.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not enough.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>At twenty Seulgi is married to a man. Byulyi’s heartbreaks, more for her love than for herself. Seulgi begged her parents to let her have a few more years. But her voice is worth too much, it’d be a shame not to pass that down to the next generation.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi is somewhat inclined to agree. Thinks that Seulgi will be a wonderful mother. Ignores the thought that that man will be the one tucking in the kids alongside his wife.</p><p> </p><p>Ignores the implication of what not wanting a child might mean for Seulgi.</p><p> </p><p>(maybe she was a monster long before the war)</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin is seventeen when she gets the news. She’s escorting a lovely woman to a dinner of sorts. The White Wind is a kingdom she has grown to love. Looks forward to seeing all the children laughing and playing. Hopes that her jobs will take her here for many years to come. (hope the kingdom won’t be ruined by the newest threat)</p><p> </p><p>Its war against the 4 Seasons. Troops from a land across the river were invading, stealing people from homes. The Red Moon was hit the hardest. Children snatched from beds and bodies littering the forests.</p><p> </p><p>The Blue Sun was trying desperately to fight back and negotiate for peace. Hyejin thinks it’s stupid and hypocritical. You don’t demand peace while standing over the body of a man you just killed.</p><p> </p><p>But nobody pays for Hyejin’s opinion.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin is nineteen when she hears about the newest threat. A girl bloodthirsty, and broken by the enemies. Unassuming, charming, and oh so deadly. Nobody has a picture of her, nobody’s lived to tell the tale.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the enemy that declared they have a traitor in their midst. A girl, stolen from the Red Moon, beaten to a pulp and born again under their methods. Trained as a killer and infiltrator.</p><p> </p><p>The bodies start popping up as proof.</p><p> </p><p>At least it means the enemy lays low. Content to sit back and watch the kingdoms destroy each from paranoia and fear. Accusations hurled at neighbors as more and more bodies pile up. Hyejin thinks its cowardly, making someone else do your dirty work. Wonders when it will all end.</p><p> </p><p>The man next to her slings his arm around her waist and leans his head in the crook of her next.</p><p> </p><p>She remembers she isn’t supposed to think.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>The war is over when Byulyi turns twenty-six. She’d been a weapon for five years. A killer. Imprisoned at twenty-five and hopeless at twenty-seven. She wonders if they’ll kill her once the war ends. But a year passed and she remains in the cell. She’d almost think she were forgotten, if not for a certain visitor.</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa visits her semi-frequently. Byulyi thinks it’s every other week but she can’t be certain.</p><p> </p><p>Time doesn’t care about her sanity.</p><p> </p><p>Neither do her captors.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>“Byulyi.” Hwasa had said one day as a greeting. The girl in question had jumped out of bed, startled to hear her real name after so long.</p><p> </p><p>“Your parents called you Moonstar.” Hwasa had continued when Byulyi was rendered speechless. “Because when you danced in the night, it seemed like the moonlight shone only for you. You were their brightest star in the whole galaxy.” </p><p> </p><p>“So different from your parents, I assume,” Byulyi drawls, careless and angry, and how dare she remind her of her home. “Seeing as you have so little to offer the world.”</p><p> </p><p>She drags her eyes up and down Hwasa’s figure. Distaste coloring her features and resentment dripping from her tone.</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa shrugs, careless as though she really doesn’t have anything to offer and that, that makes Byulyi angrier than anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Must be hard, having everyone else take care of you. Unable to provide for yourself much less for the people who gave you so much.” Byulyi tries again, lacing her words with venom.</p><p> </p><p>She blinks at her from beyond the bars and <em>dammit</em>. Byulyi wants to hit the wall and scream. Wants this beautiful girl to defend herself, to say that <em>no, she is worthy of love and praise and-</em></p><p> </p><p>“It’s nice.” Hwasa offers. “Wanting for nothing. Not needing to give everything to the people who made me.” She looks at Byulyi like she knows something.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi thinks about the time she spent being brainwashed. Thinks about her desperate need to repay the people who gave her the chance to <em>murder</em> him-</p><p> </p><p>She shivers and does not think about Seulgi’s face, afraid. Afraid of her.</p><p> </p><p>“It <em>sounds</em> like you deserve nothing, you ungrateful brat.” Byulyi snaps. “Like I should’ve started by killing everyone in this godforsaken kingdom because you are all so <em>vain</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa watches her intently, not moved by the aggression displayed.</p><p> </p><p>The silence settles for a good minute before she walks off.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi was lonely.</p><p> </p><p>Her skin was crawling and she kept thinking about the nights spent in the dark chambers of her room. Embracing the darkness and letting it devour her. After being captured they started trying to reverse the damage done to her psyche. It had worked, more or less. Not enough to keep her demons completely at bay, but enough to recognize the voices in her head weren’t hers.</p><p> </p><p>She craved some light. Tonight it felt like the shadows were closing in on her. As the voices of destruction were stronger than the past seven months in the cage. As though with her bare hands she could break the bars holding her hostage and rip the world to shreds.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, she remembers Yongsun’s laugh and Wheein’s smile and thinks that maybe there are things the world can’t stand to lose.</p><p> </p><p>A flickering light dances on the ceiling and Byulyi sits up, too lost in her demons to have noticed the movements. Hwasa is on the other side of the bars, a candle in front of her, and a lighter in her land. She’s staring at the flame from the lighter, smaller in comparison to the candle. Brighter.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi is suddenly breathless at how she looks in the candlelight. Makes her fingers itch for a pen and paper. Can hear the lyrics and melodies to describe Hwasa’s features. Soft and strong and thinner with each visit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No ones gonna help you. Nobody else.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi closes her eyes and breathes deeply, under her breath she begins to speak,</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I can’t stop, I found you</em><br/>
<em>Feels like I’m the only one</em><br/>
<em>Drives me mad and I don’t understand</em><br/>
<em>But hurting this much?</em><br/>
<em>Im used to it“</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa is looking at her with an unreadable expression and Byulyi flushes. Knows that it is painfully obvious that she lacks vocal skill. The best she can do with the music in her head is to speak it, low and fast with a tempo of longing.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t speak for a long time. Byulyi thinks that maybe Hwasa is waiting to see if Byulyi will continue. But she doesn’t, feeling too exposed to the stranger.</p><p> </p><p>When she leaves, she doesn’t take the candle with her. Byulyi lets the light bring her comfort until the sun rises again.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Nine months in and-</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me something about yourself,” Byulyi asks one day. Hwasa is laying on the ground, staring at the ceiling and looking nothing like the seductive Yellow Flower Byulyi knows her to be. She looks young.</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” Hwasa responds from the floor. Byulyi is standing, leaning against the bars again. Watching the even rise and fall of her breathing.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t have an answer. Shouldn’t be asking for more than this company. Its the only thing that keeps her sane. Stops her from slipping down the alley of past demons.</p><p> </p><p>“I look nice in red. But I think brown is my favorite color.” Hwasa offers, twisting to look at Byulyi.</p><p> </p><p>The dress Hwasa is wearing is indeed a deep red, bringing out her tan skin. Byulyi agrees the color looks good on her. But, “Brown? It’s so....”</p><p> </p><p>Her voice trails off. Doesn’t know how to say that it’s too boring of a color to capture the woman in front of her. The complexity of her eyes or the richness of her laugh. It’s too insignificant for the way Hwasa holds herself and the smart remarks she makes when her guard is down. Brown wouldn’t capture how she picks at her long nails when she’s bored or the vacant look in her eyes when she spaces out, as though nothing in this reality has enough value to hold her attention.</p><p> </p><p>Hwasa frowns. “It’s calming. Steady and muted but,” she pauses, searching. “It has depth.”</p><p> </p><p>She makes eye contact with Byulyi then and oh, how could Byulyi ever refute her when the brown of her eyes burns brighter than the stars in the sky.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin knows the war is almost over. It’s for this reason that she can sneak off. People aren’t paying much for beauty. War is the best time to make a profit if you are less desirable in the Yellow Flower. People want someone to warm their bed before they have to grab their guns. Want to feel the pleasure of the body before they step over another dead one.</p><p> </p><p>She’s staring again. Hyejin does that most of the time she spends outside the prison. Byulyi’s hair has changed colors. The long black strands have shrunk and lightened. Her hair is a rare purple silver color. Hyejin wants to touch it. Wonders how her hair had changed. Surely nobody would come and cut and dye a prisoner’s hair for fun?</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you looking at me like that?” Byulyi’s voice is different now too. Softer and distant. Like she is no longer plotting the death of everyone who wronged her.</p><p> </p><p>“Your hair,” Hyejin rasps out, “it’s different.”</p><p> </p><p>Surprise flickers across Byulyi’s face and she brings a hand up. Touches the now shoulder length choppy cut. A smile brightens her face and she laughs. Tears in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>That’s different too, Byulyi’s eyes. Hyejin noticed that the dark circles had almost completely faded as if she was finally getting the sleep she needed.</p><p> </p><p>(as if the demon possessing her soul had released its grip)</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi brings some strands of her hair to her eye level and gasps wetly. “This is what it looked like before.” Smiles oh so brightly.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin thinks she can see a ray of sunlight. Which is ridiculous when the sun isn't set to rise for another half hour.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Wheein clutches at her arm. Nuzzling in the soft of Hyejin’s stomach. Head in her best friends lap, legs spread out on the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin wonders what shes dreaming about.</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, Wheein will tell her stories about her friends. Friends Hyejin was never allowed to have because too much sunlight would darken her complexion and that wasn’t pretty. Too much running around would tone her legs and that wasn’t becoming of a lady.</p><p> </p><p>“And then Byulyi fell over.” Wheein finishes brightly, near tears as she recounts a day spent at a secret hot springs she and her friends discovered. Hyejin smiles brightly in response, clutching her friend and laughing at the image she paints.</p><p> </p><p>She thinks about the girl behind bars and the monster the enemy made and the friend that Wheein lost.</p><p> </p><p>“Byulyi works so hard.” Wheein would say. “Yongsun and I tried to distract her all the time but she cares about making good impressions. Being impressive.” Wheein fans herself with her hand. “You know, for all the ladies.” Winks at her best friend suggestively.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin would roll her eyes, whining Wheein’s name loudly.</p><p> </p><p>It was easier for Wheein. To remember her friend.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin had desperately hoped that person wasn’t gone forever.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>“If you could do be anything, what would you be?” Hyejin asks one day.</p><p> </p><p>They’re sitting cross-legged in front of the bars of the cell. The 4 Seasons is waiting on the enemy to sign the terms of surrender. In every kingdom, you could hear sounds of celebration. Well.... almost every kingdom. The Yellow Flower was silent still. A calm population, proper and tame.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi ponders for a moment, absorbing her companion. Hyejin wonders what she sees.</p><p> </p><p>“A singer.” Byulyi answers finally.</p><p> </p><p>It gives Hyejin a pause, remember lyrics written and words not easily forgotten. Thinks of Yongsun’s voice, Wheein’s high notes. Imagines for a moment that Byulyi is on stage instead of them. Not just writing the lyrics, but expressing them.</p><p> </p><p>“I wish I had the courage to write music.” Hwasa shares softly, thinking of the weight on her shoulders as she ages. Knows how little she’ll be worth in five years if she’s lucky. Knows that she’ll need to marry and reproduce if she doesn’t want to starve.</p><p> </p><p>The prisoner looks up at her. She looks healthier. More color in her cheeks, more sincerity in her eyes. Hyejin envies her lithe figure, thinks how much easier life would be if she looked more like Byulyi.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop that.” Byulyi demands. Hyejin had unconsciously shifted, presenting her more flattering angles. Byulyi’s eyes are dark and Hyejin wonders for a moment if her demons are beckoning Byulyi back to the shadows.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin swallows. “Stop what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Doing that. Straightening your back, sucking in your stomach, pulling your hair to cover the bad angles.” Byulyi growls. Hyejin had extensions now, long and back. Knew how to flaunt her hair, how to style it to appeal to men and women alike. “You’re beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>She rolls her eyes, the compliment falling flat. After losing so much weight, after spending years staring in the mirror, making certain poses and posture second nature, her beauty should be revered. She wouldn’t expect anything less.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t think I look pretty like this?” Hyejin asks, tilting her head just so. The seductive drop of her voice makes Byulyi’s eyes darken but she doesn’t take the bait.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, she reaches carefully through the bars, grasping Hyejin’s hand and squeezing gently.</p><p> </p><p>“You are so much more than just your beauty,” Byulyi promises fiercely.</p><p> </p><p>And Hyejin feels a little lost because “I’m nothing without it.”</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi is pacing back and forth in her cell when familiar chatter sounds from the hallway. Yongsun and Wheein appear before her very eyes and Byulyi drops to her knees. They bury their hands in her hand and wipe the tears from her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>She feels the sun on her skin for the first time in what feels like forever.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi is twenty-nine when she hears a voice that changes her life.</p><p> </p><p>After being freed from her prison, after the war had been won and the alliance and released her debts, Byulyi wasn’t sure how to live. Wasn’t sure how the people around her could trust her after the grief she put everyone through. But she sees pictures of the destruction, sees the monster standing in the rubble, and she concedes that it doesn’t even look like her.</p><p> </p><p>The pale skin reminds her of the vampires from legends. The black uniform and the crooked crown on her head bring out the blood dripping from her lips and the soulless eyes. Its the only picture the kingdoms have of her terror. Blurry and dark and not her anymore. Not her ever again.</p><p> </p><p>She was willing to spend the rest of her life locked up. And after they freed her she devoted her time to cleaning up the mess. Picking up garbage, building new houses and stores, tending to the sick. The list of skills grew and grew and Byulyi was believed to be one the best things the Red Moon had produced in a decade.</p><p> </p><p>The praise was almost too much.</p><p> </p><p>So Byulyi spent a lot of time in the White Wind. Yongsun and Wheein by her side as they tumbled through the woods. Their laughter bright.</p><p> </p><p>When they break through the clearing Byulyi’s heart stops.</p><p> </p><p>“Hyejin.” Wheein breathes and Byulyi takes a second to balk at the fact that the woman had lied to her about her name for years, even if she had no reason to give Byulyi her real name.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin is strolling through the open fields of the Yellow Flower, white dress long and flowing. Its spring, Byulyi knows distantly, wonders how hot Hyejin must be in a floor-length dress when the material looks thick in the sweltering heat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Falling like a shooting star</em><br/>
<em>There’s no one at night</em><br/>
<em>People tell me to be nice</em><br/>
<em>I forgot how to smile</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her voice is loud and clear and heartbreaking. Hyejin looks so small, her face devoid of the make up she wears like armor. Byulyi had only been able to see her once a month since her release. Hyejin had been busy with jobs and Byulyi had been busy atoning for her sins.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi’s legs give out and she crashes to the ground, in awe of the woman in front of her. Yongsun and Wheein snicker and the look of hopeless love of their friend’s face. Silently pleased that Byulyi could feel that strongly. After everything she had been through, Yongsun always wondered if her refusal to date stemmed from Byulyi’s need to punish herself.</p><p> </p><p>Now she just thinks that no one could capture Byulyi’s attention when Hyejin exists within her reach.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin is twenty-five when she understands the difference between love and lust.</p><p> </p><p>She stands on stage beside Wheein. A charity concert that Yongsun has put together. People of all kingdoms came, the Yellow Flower folk were more escorts than performers, looking exceptionally pretty on the arms of people who had nothing better to spend their money on and loneliness in their eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Wheein smiles at her across the stage and she loves this feeling. Loves singing beside her best friend. Loves doing something that brings more meaning to her life than beauty. But the people in the crowds recognize her from her kingdom. And there’s lust in the haze of the audience as they take in her figure, sheathed in a red suit and swaying so seductively in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>Real love is Byulyi backstage, with a shy smile and a small bouquet of flowers and jittery hands. Real love is the kiss Byulyi presses to her cheek when she greets her, congratulating her voice and stage presence with eyes only for Hyejin.</p><p> </p><p>They have their first real date two hours later. Sitting in the forest of Byulyi’s home, listening to the distant music of the Blue Sun. Byulyi has her arm wrapped around Hyejin’s shoulders and Hyejin wonders how she could go so long with the stifling quiet of her kingdom.</p><p> </p><p>Byulyi presses a kiss to the crown of Hyejin’s head. “I missed you.” She breathes into the smaller girl’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>A smile crosses Hyejin’s face, unwelcome but genuine all the same. “So needy.” Hyejin purs, pressing a chaste kiss to Byulyi’s throat.</p><p> </p><p>The responsive chuckle is throaty and when Byulyi says, “Yeah.” It comes out raspier than when she first spoke. Hyejin is quietly pleased at being desired.</p><p> </p><p>“I always miss you,” Byulyi confesses to the stars.</p><p> </p><p>Hyejin whines, “Byulyi,” and buries her face in the girl’s neck in embarrassment. “You can’t just say things like that.”</p><p> </p><p>But Byulyi is unapologetic when she tilts Hyejin’s face up to hers, centimeters of space separating. “I always want you.” She says into Hyejin’s lips, inching closer.</p><p> </p><p>Unable to wait longer, Hyejin grasps Byulyi’s tie and pulls her harder than necessary given how close they are. Byulyi falls into her, giggling between kisses and this. this is everything.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Overcome the darkness and light up light up light up</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll save you with my light</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fic. If you want to, I've opened up a ko-fi account. I'm accepting commissions there if you want me to write something specific or if you want to buy me a coffee. Either way, I'll continue writing and I thank you for your support! Whether that's reading, leaving a kudos, leaving a comment, or leaving a tip.</p><p>https://ko-fi.com/unassumingwriting</p></blockquote></div></div>
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